


you destroy everything you touch

by Raha



Category: iCarly
Genre: F/M, i don't want to talk about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raha/pseuds/Raha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rule number three: Don’t fuck up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you destroy everything you touch

**Author's Note:**

> So this obviously isn’t my usual style. And to be honest, I have absolutely no idea what the hell it actually is. I usually abhor everything about fics like this. But then again, it is 3am, and Psychology is one hell of an interesting subject.

_Rule number one: The mask stays on at all times._

_Rule number two: If you remove the mask, you’ve fucked up._

_Rule number three: Don’t fuck up._

_Congratulations._

_You are now a Puckett._

…

Stop.

Rewind.

Run.

You refuse to listen.

You don’t throw a punch.

Instead you do the one thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t do.

You rip off your mask.

You can almost hear the shadows in the courtyard weeping.

Maybe they’re laughing.

You wouldn’t know.

There is only one thing on your mind right now.

And his confused face is spinning all over the place.

The voices in your head get louder.

They tell you they’re waiting for you.

Run.

We’re waiting for you.

You wait five minutes.

The only things that you hear are the cries and laughter.

So you run.

You leave him in the courtyard with the voices.

Yet the voices still follow you.

You refuse to let them catch up.

You’re scared.

You should be.

Congratulations.

You’ve fucked up.

…

Ninety-eight.

Ninety-nine.

One hundred.

And repeat.

You can’t ignore the shadows.

So you sit and count.

And when they start mocking you, you paint.

They’re happy.

We’re happy.

This is your home now.

But it isn’t

He’s here.

Start shrieking.

He’s here.

You don’t scream.

You rip off the mask.

And the voices yell out for you.

And now he’s walking to you.

Your head is ringing.

And now he’s kissing you.

Your heart is thumping.

Everyone here is crazy, you say.

_The only crazy one is you, they say._

But you don’t listen.

You should have.

Congratulations.

You’ve fucked up.

…

Scream.

Yell.

Cry.

Run.

_Run._

You listen.

He hears.

The stairs are about to fall out from under you.

When did the lights get so bright?

Turn them off.

You try to run.

They overtake you.

You start dancing with the shadows.

There are too many to count this time.

You want them to disappear.

But they can’t.

Because they’re all you.

They’ve always been you.

They’ll always be you.

The voices get louder and louder.

They start shrieking.

You ignore them.

You can’t ignore them.

You refuse to ignore them.

They refuse to let you ignore them.

She’s right.

We told you.

You’re wrong.

No, _you’re wrong._

Congratulations.

You’ve fucked up.

…

Pain.

Joy.

Confusion.

Why now?

Question it.

Why should you?

Just live in the moment.

For once in your life, believe.

Don’t.

Don’t you dare.

_Don’t you dare say it back._

But for once you have control over the voices.

They fade away.

There’s a ringing in your ears.

There are tears behind your eyelids.

There’s dryness in your throat.

But no voices.

You _make_ them fade away.

And then you say it back.

Then they come back with a vengeance.

They fill up all your senses.

You have zero control.

You drown.

We warned you.

And repeat.

We warned you.

They force themselves into your head.

We warned you.

Congratulations.

You’ve fucked up.

…

Agony.

Hurt.

Blood.

You can’t tell if it’s yours.

You don’t want to know.

The walls are spinning.

You like it that way.

You’re too dizzy to think.

You like it that way.

Your fingers burn from the ash on your cigarette.

You like it that way.

You’re trying so hard not to feel.

But all you’re doing is feeling.

They’re not happy with that.

They never are.

You want to go back.

Back to the lock-in.

Or maybe back to the fire escape.

You’d even be willing to go back to sixth grade.

And just change it all.

But you know you’re full of crap.

As much as it hurts, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Maybe it’d be better to be to go back to before the voices took over you.

But you can’t remember a time when they weren’t.

They’ve always been there.

Warning you.

Mocking you.

Weeping _for you._

It’s a curse.

Or a blessing.

Because you know they’ll never leave you.

You’ll never truly be alone when they’re there.

They’re telling you to go home.

But you are home.

Go home.

You step over the shattered glass on the floor.

Go home.

You start waking to Carly’s apartment.

That’s home.

Unfortunately that’s not what they wanted.

And they make your head staring spinning again.

They’re displeased.

You don’t care.

Congratulations.

You’ve fucked up.

…

Stop.

Rewind.

Run.

It’s time.

Time to make your choice.

He’s leaving.

He’s leaving you.

She’s leaving as well.

You no longer have a home.

Make a choice.

It’s time.

Make the right choice.

You know what the right choice is.

Not really.

But they do.

Situation one.

Go to the airport.

Say goodbye.

Don’t say goodbye.

Tell him how you feel.

Even though he knows.

He’s always known.

Of course he knows.

Take off the mask.

Even if you’re no longer wearing one.

Maybe he’ll stay.

Maybe you’ll have a home.

Maybe you can be happy again.

As happy as you can be anyway.

_You’ll never know true happiness._

_Not if you don’t listen to us._

Situation two.

Go to the airport.

Say goodbye.

Don’t say goodbye.

Tell him how you feel.

Watch him laugh.

You’re not quite sure why.

Maybe he’s happy.

Of course not.

He’s laughing at you.

You hate it.

You’ve never liked being laughed at.

But that’s all you know.

Mockery.

You dish it out, but you can’t handle it.

And he continues laughing.

You won’t have a home anymore.

And he won’t stay.

_But who would possibly stay for you?_

_Not him._

_Not anyone._

Situation three.

Go to the airport.

Say goodbye.

Don’t say goodbye.

Tell him how you feel.

_It’s too late._

Situation four.

Don’t go the airport.

Go home.

But not your home.

You don’t have a home.

But they do.

And they’re still waiting.

They’ll always be waiting.

Patiently.

You’ll be happy.

Truly happy.

Make a choice.

Make your choice.

Make the right choice.

And you do.

They catch up to you.

You’ve let them.

Welcome home.

Game over.

Congratulations.

You are now a Puckett.

…


End file.
